


The Manual: How to Take Care of Your Yuuri

by swimmingfrug



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Implied Anxiety Attack, M/M, Romance, Victor just loves Katsuki Yuuri a lot, that part's short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 08:56:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17220848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimmingfrug/pseuds/swimmingfrug
Summary: A short (and by no means comprehensive) list of ways that Victor shows Yuuri he cares.It's all fluff, folks.





	The Manual: How to Take Care of Your Yuuri

_(7) Hugs. Soft and gentle, or very enthusiastic. At least twice a day._

Yuuri was such a beautiful thing to watch when he was skating. Or dancing. Or perching. Or stretching. In movement and in stillness. Victor felt so blessed that he had the privilege of calling Yuuri “mine”. As he watched Yuuri carefully carve figures in the ice, Victor felt affection bubble up from his heart, through his lungs, up his throat, permeate his entire being, and finally spill out of his mouth with a soft sigh. Victor really was so lucky. He just had to let Yuuri know how lucky he was.

Victor skated onto the ice and stopped a few feet away from where Yuuri kept tracing precise lines, waiting for the man to notice him. Up close, Victor could better appreciate the duality of soft strength that came out during this exercise - the ever-so-slight frown, the quiet concentration in his eyes that turned into a quizzical glance-

Oh. Yuuri noticed him. Victor tilted his head and let his affection pull his mouth into a wide smile.

“I missed you!”

Yuuri huffed a laugh, the focus in his eyes draining away to be replaced by something more tender and bright.

“I missed you too,” he smiled, rubbing the back of his neck in that small, sheepish way of his.

Victor squealed and propelled all of his excess emotions to sweep Yuuri in a hug, only for more joy to bubble up as Yuuri’s arms automatically came around to hold him.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_(19) Wake him up with a kiss. Don’t forget to appreciate what he looks like asleep first!_

One of the things that Victor most disliked? Waking up before the sun hadn’t even risen properly when he had a rest day. He huffed and wiggled to turn to his other side where- ah. Victor felt his mouth quirk into a tiny smile as discontent left his soul. 

Sleeping Yuuri was the one, relatively recent, saving grace about his body’s cursed early morning habits. Sleeping Yuuri was beautiful. All melty and soft and warm. His cheeks and mouth were just asking to be kissed. And who was Victor to deny them? He propped himself up on an elbow to further appreciate the loveliness by his side for just a moment longer before leaning forward to oblige the silent request for kisses. 

Yuuri’s cheeks were delightfully warm and pliable, and his lips just as soft as Victor thought. He lingered with every kiss, appreciating every second of it.

Yuuri stirred after Victor’s final peck to his lips. 

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Victor murmured, nuzzling cheeks. 

“S’too early..” Yuuri complained in a mumble, mindlessly reaching for Victor to tug him in close. Once Victor was neatly tucked in next to him, he sighed in contentment.

Victor squeezed Yuuri, snuggling closer to him. 

“I suppose we can sleep some more,” Victor whispered, pressing another kiss into Yuuri’s skin. 

“Mmmm… Mph!!”

“... Or we can feed Makka,” Victor suggested, struggling with the enthusiastic and hungry puppy.

Yuuri whined and burrowed deeper into the covers. “You can go feed Makka.”

“Rock paper scissors?”

“No. She’s your dog.”

Victor gasped in mock hurt, then winced as Makka’s claws dug in a little too hard. “I thought she was our dog!”

“Nope. Before sunrise, she’s _yours_.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_(8) Be honest with him. Always._

Practice was sucking. There was no other word for it. Coaching Yuuri was alright, he was in fine form today. But Victor’s own practice? Victor could feel his age, steadily putting pressure on him like a physical force, making his landings harder, rougher, making him stumble once, thrice, _too many times_. 

“Vitya, go home. Rest. Tomorrow will be better.”

There were still two hours left of practice. Victor almost refused out of habit, his spirit still the energetic (stubborn) teenager in the face of his lifelong mentor, but he reigned himself in. Yakov was right. Continuing now would only risk dangerous injuries. He managed to get himself to say “thank you for the practice” to Yakov before stalking away to change. 

Once in the changing room, Victor paused, half in his training clothes, comfy sweats in hand. He didn’t want to face Yuuri. Didn’t want to admit that he was not going to be the same champion everybody expected him to be. That some days, just the thought of simultaneously coaching and competing frayed his nerves like Makka’s old chew toys. 

A glimmer of gold shone through Victor’s thoughts, light reflecting off the ring on his hand. 

_“I just want Victor to be Victor.”_

And what if Victor had changed? Would Yuuri still want him?

Victor quickly finished changing and quietly headed for the exit, mulling over his options.

“Hey, Victor!”

Victor startled, turned, and managed to plaster on a polite smile. “Yes... Mila?”

She fidgeted, apparently aware that she was not the most welcome presence at that moment. But she took good care of Yuri and Georgi. He respected her for that. He could listen. “I know we don’t really talk much. But I…”

She twisted her face in a few different expressions, struggling with words. Victor waited. His patience really had grown, he thought, ever since he started coaching Yuuri. Waiting felt a tad less prickly now. Although he really only showed the most patience with Yuuri. Which made sense since-

“You love Yuuri a lot.” Well, that’s not exactly news. Victor waited a little more. “He loves you a lot too. I think you guys are lucky to have each other. Just felt like telling you.” Another pause, this one laced with a tinge of awkwardness. “Well, get home safe!” And she flitted away.

Victor stood there, eyebrows raised, eyes following Mila. She hopped back on the ice and went to Yuri, hitting his arm as she slid by, telling him something Victor couldn’t quite make out. But he could see Yuri rolling his eyes and glancing at Victor. A tiny warmth rooted in his chest. He wanted to go home. But first, a pit stop.

Victor stepped into his apartment one hour and twenty five minutes before his practice was due to end with a six pack of beer in hand. He could hear running water, sad puppy whines, and wheedling Japanese. Ah. Bathtime. The water shut off. And then-

“Makka no!!” 

Victor was hit by sixty pounds of enthusiastic, wet poodle. He barely managed to keep his balance, feeling a laugh bubble out all on its own. Makka was _wonderful_.

“Victor?”

Yuuri stood near the bathroom, clad only in damp shorts. His eyebrows were furrowed, mouth turned down slightly, eyes muted with concern. “You’re early?”

Victor’s laugh petered out and shrunk into a tiny smile, eyes dropping to Makkachin, giving her a few pets. He took a deep breath. He could do this. He loved Yuuri. Yuuri loved him. “Today sucked,” he admitted, holding up the six pack. Victor could feel some of the sour anxiety leave his lungs with the confession. He breathed a little easier.

He looked up, startled to see Yuuri much closer than he had been a moment ago, his eyes now alight with understanding and - _thank gods_ \- love. Victor felt air leave his lungs as Yuuri hugged him tight, then come back in tasting sweeter with acceptance and _it-will-be-okay_. 

And with Yuuri, it would always be okay.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_(13) Go on adventures. Occasionally._

“Keep your eyes closed!”

“Victor, you tied a scarf around my eyes, it doesn’t matter if they’re open.”

“Still! You might peek! Then Makkachin would be disappointed in you,” Victor pouted. “Isn’t that right, Makka? We worked hard for this!”

Yuuri’s brow furrowed. “We?” he asked. “How did Makka help you with anything?”

Victor only hummed in response, giddiness thrumming through his entire body, making him want to skip with joy. If he was being honest, this trip wasn’t too hard to coordinate. If anything, Yakov almost seemed happy that Victor seemed to now know what a rest day actually meant. Even if it meant Victor wheedled to have another rest day consecutively so he and Yuuri could have a four-day weekend trip. 

To say the least, Victor was very excited about this trip. He worked hard to keep it a secret from Yuuri, getting Mila and Georgi to help him out with the booking details. He was going to properly surprise Yuuri, dammit!

A smile bloomed on Victor’s face as they approached their destination. He snuck a quick glance over at Yuuri, who was quietly petting Makkachin, apparently resigned to his fate of sitting in darkness. He looked around (a bit futilely) as the car shifted into park. “Are we here?” Yuuri asked, fidgeting anxiously.

“We are!” Victor cheered. He rushed out of his seat and over to Yuuri’s so he could carefully guide him out of the car. He hugged Yuuri tight to keep him warm from the biting wind. “Are you ready to see where we are?”

“I’ve been ready thirty minutes ago, Vitya,” said Yuuri, fond exasperation woven through his words.

Victor carefully untied the scarf, making sure it was still covering Yuuri’s eyes. He readied himself. “Okay… tada!!” he exclaimed, whipping it away.

Snow glistened in the small meadow, topped the trees, and sat primly on the roof of their rented cabin. Victor reveled in Yuuri’s gasp. Maybe preened a little. It _was_ pretty amazing. Nothing but the best for his precious fiance and puppy. He tilted his head to catch Yuuri’s eyes. “Do you like it?” he asked, somewhat nervously. 

“It’s wonderful,” Yuuri smiled, eyes sparkling like the snow.

Victor laughed triumphantly. Success! “Good! It’s ours for the weekend!”

Yuuri turned in place, wrapping his arms around Victor. “Thank you, Vitya,” he said fondly, cheeks and nose red. “I love it. But it’s freezing, can we go in now?”

Victor gasped. “Yes! We can start with the hot tub!”

“I can’t believe you found us a cabin with a hot tub.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_(2) Just be with him._

“... In, two, three, four, hold, two, three, four, five, six, seven, out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, in, two, three, four, hold, two, three, four-”

Victor froze when Yuuri’s hand came up to touch his mouth. But he did relax when he heard Yuuri continue to breathe without the counts. They were no longer needed.

Victor’s hand softly molded around Yuuri’s, a small squeeze to ask if that was okay. There was an equally small answering squeeze around his mouth. Victor pushed his lips forward to press a kiss to his palm before taking the hand into two of his own. He started to massage the hand, beginning in the middle, out to the pinky, bring the hand up to his face to drop another kiss, then back to the middle to start again. 

He looked sideways as he kept kneading Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri’s eyes were squeezed closed (though with less tension than they had five minutes ago), mouth opening occasionally to let out streams of air that weren’t quite eight counts but still longer than a natural exhale. Makkachin’s head was perched on his lap, his free hand buried in her fur, fingers listlessly twitching now and again.

Another exhale, and Yuuri’s eyes opened. In between his eyebrows, there was still tension. In his eyes, frustration and exhaustion clashed. The corner of his mouth twitched when he saw Victor watching him. “Hi.” His voice wavered.

Victor smiled. “Hey,” he said simply. “Would you like some water?”

A nod. 

“Snuggle in bed?”

Another nod.

“Can I carry you there?”

A judgemental squint. Victor held back a smile.

“If you get to bed, I’ll get you water and join you, okay?”

Half a smile. Crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

Victor stubbed his toe on the couch in his rush to get a bottle of water. He didn’t want to care, but that _really_ hurt. He heard Makkachin whine in between his swearing. “I’m okay! I kicked the couch on accident, I’ll be right there!” he called to his room.

When he presented Yuuri with a water bottle with a bendy straw stuck in it, he got another eye-crinkley half smile and a soft “thank you”. Victor wasted no more time in stripping down to his underwear and shimmying into the sheets next to his beloved. After polishing off most of the bottle, Yuuri immediately wiggled his way between Victor’s arms.

Victor sighed and gave Yuuri a squish as Yuuri tangled their legs together and nuzzled close. He waited a short lull, then, “Do you want to talk about it?”

A sideways head shake. 

“Later?”

Another lull. A nod.

“Okay,” Victor said, giving Yuuri another squish. “Talk later. Cuddles now.”

Victor got a squish back.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_(5) Sincerely tell him “thank you”. At least once a day._

For taking out the trash  
For doing the dishes after dinner  
For walking Makka  
For packing me lunch  
For sharpening my blades  
For your smiles  
For making me laugh  
For making me tea  
For the quad flip  
For waiting for my practice to end  
For walking home with me  
For moving to Russia  
For being my home  
For keeping me warm  
For my ring  
For the good night kiss after our argument  
For your tenacity  
For the good morning kiss  
For letting me in  
For washing my hair  
For letting me wash your hair  
For listening  
For holding me  
For dancing with me  
For surprising me  
For competing with me  
For your concern  
For your honesty  
For believing in me  
For trusting me  
For encouraging me  
For pushing me  
For inspiring me  
For loving me

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The night was deep and still. It was one of those rare nights where even the city itself did its best to keep the sanctity of the quiet darkness, seeming to mute the cars, calm the pedestrians, and dust away the curtain of smog for the stars to shine through.

Tonight was a night for talking, and much was said. Questions were raised and answered, jokes were made, secrets were shared, and as the hours whiled away, so did their voices.

Yuuri was only a loop, skip, and a lutz away from sliding into sleep, but Victor needed to tell him one last thing.

He’d said it so often that some might think that it had lost meaning. But for Victor, the phrase only ever became… _more_. He suspected that with Yuuri, it always would.

“Yuuri?”

“Mrm?”

_(1) Tell him “I love you”. At least once a day. But the more the better._

**Author's Note:**

> I spent a lot of time listening to "The Manual" by Eddy Kim while writing this. I was in A Mood.
> 
> And also I have nobody to project this mood onto except for fictional characters :D
> 
> Hope y'all like it! ^.^;;


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